My Seasons of Snowy Leaves
by Takato Lover16
Summary: This is not a love story; No, not a story of love.     This is a story of maybe.
1. Author Note: Maybe

This is not a love story.

I often ponder how love has become such an integral necessity in all our lives. It seems we risk all with those three words, even when uncertainty is bound around every corner.

I wonder, is anyone ever truly in love?

And if so, how long will that truth last?

Despite the sensations I once felt going through my own personal love reminiscence, I no longer class love as love; that way, at least, it makes the love go away, if only for a few pages.

So, no; this is not a story of love.

This is a story of maybe.

_^^^^^^^Author Note: Takeru Takaishi.^^^^^^^_

This is not a story of love.

This is a story of maybe.


	2. Prologue: Cold Autumn

Autumn

I could've sworn I heard an enchantingly loose violin string as my coy eyes stared deep into caramel colouring. A blink freeing me slightly, I averted my gaze toward the sunned patio and swaying clouded ripples in mid-sky.

Finely furnishing the normally empty space beside, Davis relaxed upon whispers of apt grass. I licked my lips apprehensively and swivelled my sight back around.

Foolish fire swirled within myself and compelled the forbidden, impossibly near words. A littlest bit of heaven sprayed from a single ray of autumn light shadowed Davis' cinnamon hair and I instantly knew.

Those violin choirs must have escaped my heart.

Biting my tongue but still hoping sound would depart, I lay on the suddenly sharp emerald waves and I saw that same caramel whisk with slender curiosity. Davis leaned naively and spoke with his content voice.

"Takeru, why are you here?"

Bewilderment shrouding my thoughts, I attempted an answer while darting my eyes at a plane circling, ready to land but undecided.

"We come here every Sunday"

Seeming unhindered by my blunt answer, Davis looked me over accusingly and a stern frown replaced rest.

"No. Why are you really here?"

I kept quiet.

"I've met a girl and we've started seeing each other" He spoke as slowly as a fall, probably so he wouldn't need to repeat the saddening words.

Wasting those last few moments together with my unsung feelings and Davis' eyes never blinking; I simply ducked behind my imagination's mirage of what I had wanted to happen.

Davis' eyelashes collapsed completely and he whispered.

"I know what you are. Truthfully, I thought I was too. I'm sorry, but you're too clingy and the way you hug me every chance you get... I'm not like you. I'm sorry"

Autumn reflections growing evidently within my eyes, the water appeared and from then on, struggled to steady.

All colours curving into each other, my wavering vision tried to focus on that cinnamon haired boy as the last of his words were spoken.

"You're really kind, delicate and sweet... But you're cold. Somehow, always cold"

Then, he stood and left.

A quietly distancing blur was all that remained after that.


	3. Gravity, Trains and Fate

Spring

Beneath melodic, sky-high buildings, electronic doors slid open and I boundlessly ran from the platform and through unwelcomed, chilly breezes. Free flowing, my backpack straps hung loosely, threatening to almost fall from reach.

I had to make it in time.

Steel wheels began to move again in my ear's distance, somehow fuelling my desires. Almost wishing homebound was what I was, I felt my tingling legs begin to ache and cry out. Gritting pearls together determinedly, I saw ahead the goal.

The dreaded steps beneath felt hot and imposing, extinguishing whatever inspiration had driven me there.

Cowardly ready to turn and run, I struggled to remain positioned.

Then, unexpectedly, reminiscence struck; a motto from the national war memorial that I had recently visited shot through my thoughts and my cheeks arose with passion and enthusiasm.

For, 'With courage, nothing is impossible'

No longer afraid, I stepped inside the high rise building and onto sparkling laminated floorboards. Various pots decorated the calming atmosphere with subtle, contemporary garments of flowers and cliques of vines stirred beyond eyesight.

An apparently attractive receptionist looked toward me in greeting and I smiled, walking nearer.

"Hiya, I'm here to enrol on the English course" Obviously seeing through my bold mask, she revealed my nervous self and smiled warmly; her smile said so much – I wasn't sure how.

Chattering keys gossiped and clicked as the receptionist turned her attention toward the computer monitor.

"Oh, I'm sorry; we have no places left for that course" She began, smile remaining tactfully.

"The only course we have places for is singing" The brunette illustrated this with a single hand swaying from her closed lips.

Long before those last words were spoken, pacing heartbeats echoed throughout me and my mouth became agape. Swiftly too aware of myself, heat engulfed just below my eyes and I blinked twice, faking a small smile.

"Oh, that's okay. Thanks, anyway"

With that said, I exited the glimmeringly glassed doorway, a littlest bit of fate unknown in my mind. That same fate grew a greatly unsure idea and I found myself once more stuck on those same steps of hotness and of no hope.

Déjà vu arising, that same motto of impossibility being impossible chorused over and over, begging me to return.

Feeling like a fool, but strangely sure, I entered the flower perfumed room and inaudibly glided to the main desk.

Turquoise jewels reflected up at me.

"Can I help you" She spoke as if she'd never seen me before.

Holding tight my reluctant courage, I swallowed hard and swiped a look toward the spinning ceiling fan for guidance.

"I've come here for the singing class"

The same receptionist was noticeably surprised at my words, but soon hid it conspicuously.

Soon after forty minutes of awkward signing of official documents was completed, I thankfully exited the college's main entrance and breathed many sighs of relief.

Like trying to breathe regularly with my head dug deeply beneath snow, I shivered at the thought of singing, but I felt quite comfortable and even felt a small sense of curved happiness embrace me as the cold became blissfully clear.

Smiling off wafers of solidly shiny icicles, I almost skipped back toward the train station, taking my new found fate by the hand and never blinking once.

Numerous shades of sun ripened pink spilled onto a chasm of hopping leaves and reappearing life. I walked leisurely upon a white stoned path which caressed the integrated substance of evening atmosphere.

I always loved the spring – it's just like a blank page in an endless book of stories and of happenings.

Appropriate whistles echoed my labyrinth of thought as the train station appeared before me. The building lay content, bathing in nature's flourishing – it never did look without emotion or feeling.

Boring thousands of seconds ticked and I stood on the platform awaiting.

Out the smoke of behind, an uninvited hand became present.

Gravity attacked.

I felt empty air bombard my falling self and soon after felt a restless pain entrench my knee and shoulder. I had been pushed out the way into a solid brick wall and many packed suitcases which littered the platform unpleasantly.

I pushed my teeth together in pain and opened my eyes; No one seemed to have noticed. Only the people rearranging their now fallen suitcases, but they only glanced toward me with disapproving formality.

Struggling to walk normally, I limped – distributing my weight unevenly. When a chair was exactly what I would've wished for at that moment, I thought it a mirage when a single, particularly tempting one came into view.

As I sat, my aching rejoiced and I took that opportunity to inspect my injuries.

Crooked shards of broken off brick twinkled from within the shallow, yet piercing incision made upon my bruised knee. I screwed my face up in realisation and hesitantly pulled my red shirt down from neck line to reveal my equally damaged shoulder blade.

I wish I hadn't worn shorts today.

"The train to Iceby is now entering the station" The stereotypical voice from the overhead speakers informed.

Not yet wanting to arise, I groaned and ungracefully toddled up to the correct platform. The rude passengers-to-be waited impatiently, some complaining out loud; I myself was hoping they'd somehow navigate outward, away from earshot.

Far sounds of whishing wheels became close quick and the train froze stationary, awaiting its next load of passengers while kindly letting some who have reached their destination off.

People rushed forward and I was trapped again, almost drowning. I struggled to stay afloat, grasping a waist high railing. Not bothering to even try and hide my annoyance, a low, emotionally empowered growl escaped my voice box of idle concealment and the ocean hollowed a little.

Resetting my feelings quickly, I turned and spied a gap among the still choppy cyclones. Almost running despite my wounds, I scuffled through the hole and entered the increasingly full train compartment.

All the while wishing I'd packed some water wings, too.

Whining muscles not wanting to go any further compelled me to clamber onto the first free seat I saw. The seats were positioned two either side, facing each other with an overhead light and a table separating them both a little.

That clear formation abruptly ended as I saw the empty space in front of me where the table was supposed to be located.

I sighed and removed my backpack, sliding each strap off and placing it on my lap. Taking a pencil and the notebook I always write in out, I placed it down between my legs and began my clichéd task of song writing, poem writing, short story writing and novel writing.

Any writing would do, really.

Intuition escaping me, I created an aggravated face as the normally forthcoming words failed to appear. Notepad growing crunchier as my frustration arose and a freshly sharpened pencil tucked behind my ear itched little, a peripheral melody of violins chiming mysteriously came to be.

Brash perplexity hoisted my eyes all around, searching for speakers or other audio output devices. None were to be found.

Symphony ceasing, I sighed and waved a hand through my blonde hair. The outside light faded completely as a tunnel, out of nowhere, surrounded me. A clear reflection stared from my foreground and mirrored an unimpressed, quite shameful emotion.

I never did like the way I looked.

Hastily closing my eyes tight, I tried to think of other things.

Sceptically feeling a sudden presence near, my eyes began to open. But not before an unknown object struck me and fell idly to the seat beside.

Azure fully widened now, my eyebrows furrowed and I aimed a justified frown at the person across the waterfall of artificial light.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" He ignored me.

Upon staring at him narrowly, waiting for a response, I felt my anger fade a little and I took a few seconds to really look at the stranger.

He was a boy – around my age, perhaps younger. His hair looked damp, an almost crimson colour. The clothes he wore clung to his quite athletic frame and I felt my long gaze hit the floor; you'd have to travel pretty far to find any muscle on my body – a fact I felt growingly ashamed of.

"I'm sorry"

His voice was ambiguous; I had a hard time deciphering the legitimacy.

As if naively, I glanced upward and smiled at his sideways, closed-eyed face.

"Oh, that's okay"

Replays of those last past minutes flooded my mind; I felt guilty about being so angry, and for shouting at him – I didn't even know the guy, after all.

"Erm... I'm sorry, too"

The boy remained still, much like a statue.

A swoosh of windswept inspiration gushed that off my shoulder and a frontier of what I had searched so long for arrived. Ready to write immediately, I moved my fingers to grasp the perched pencil, but before they succeeded that same pencil dropped below the table of thin air, crashed and rolled instinctively with the rocking train tracks around.

Desperate to transform my impatient ideas into literature, I dug beneath the table head-first, my angled legs supporting me from the base of the seat. My sight searched frantically, then, I saw something which made me shudder; the pencil lay inconveniently – sandwiched between the boy's nearly vertical, crossed feet.

It couldn't have been helped; I grabbed the pencil and accidentally brushed my skin against his.

Like lightning, I clambered up into my previous, casual pose; all the while praying to god he didn't feel me touch him.

Maybe my imagination, but when I after breathed that sigh of relief, I swear I saw the slightest corner of his lips curve into an amused smile.

Maybe not.


	4. End of the End

Winter –EndoftheEnd

"Though you've pushed me back and turned away when I cried, I still cannot not be near you; I need you"

Immune to my true words and leaking eyes, Davis stood in his open, warm doorway, free from all bitterly freezing winds.

He just stayed still, saying absolutely nothing.

"What do you want me to say? I've already told you – I'm not like you" He unexpectedly spat, his eyes looked disgusted at the sight of me.

I felt sick. Davis must've sensed this as I noticed a snide smile form on his face. Suddenly, all of my before spread feelings merged together in anger and resentment, and words I was sure I was going to regret.

That didn't stop me, though.

"What about everything we've done together, and all those times you came onto me?" When he stayed quieter than before, I felt my bad emotion rise and lash out.

"I only really ever liked you because I felt sorry for you!" I shouted and I suppose I should've felt slight mercy for him as his eyes widened in shock and surprise.

"You must be glad I'm going, then" Davis murmured, not mirroring my rage.

"Glad? I wish you never come back!"

The door slammed shut like the Earth exploding and restless ice crystals tumbled from the roof and fell beneath, onto the trampolines of snow.

Bursting into a run, desperate to escape threat of teardrops, I rammed earphones into their destination and continued along:

**Somebody once told me I'm like a cloud; Thunderstorm; sometimes warm, but never Quite as loud. That person never told me how.**

**But now I see just how in my own sight; Exactly cloud-like; Always there, even through the night. Sometimes hail, sometimes light.**

**I often wondered, now I know why I could never be his bride. And then came the snow, Everything turned white. **

**Frost is all around; Heart-to-heart failed; Raining and loveless, Unconsciousness of the heart. **

**Ripped me apart, with those words of yours, I search away, Wish to know where the pieces of me are; Still a little split, Do clouds ever mend? **

_I think this is the first author note I've done for this story. :P _

_Anyway; I've been getting new ideas for this story, so I wanted to get this incredibly short chapter out of the way, so that I can continue the plot more smoothly. _

_The song at the end is actually a song I wrote for my best friend's band, and is called: 'Beyond Repair'. _

_Thanks for reading! (It will get better, I promise!) :') _

_Thanks, again! :') _

_Xxxxxxxx _

_Oh,__and__I__'__m__going__to__start__advertising__my__Digimon__yaoi__FF__competition__on__all__my__stories,__just__in__case__anybody__'__s__up__for__participating.__There__are__several__judging__stages,__until__there__is__one__winner__left.__Oh,__and__the__winner__will__receive__a__Takato__Matsuki__plushie!__:__'__)__The__competition__doesn__'__t__start__until__November__5__th__2011,__but__we__are__accepting__early__entries._

_Thanks. _

_XxxxxxxxxxxxX_


End file.
